


Lark of My Heart

by lena-in-a-red-dress (CSIGurlie07)



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, happy lena au, lena's birthmom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-08 06:34:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19865095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CSIGurlie07/pseuds/lena-in-a-red-dress
Summary: Following Lex's death, Kara invites Lena to be her plus-one at an art gallery opening. There Lena meets an unexpected stranger, and though she doesn't know it yet, her life will never be the same. (Previously posted on tumblr as "Beat of my Heart")Now updating sporadically as the muse strikes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](https://sango-blep.tumblr.com/post/183634439811/i-didnt-know-i-needed-lenas-mom-before-this-pic) on @sango-blep's blog.

After Lex’s death, Kara does her best to lift Lena’s spirits. Brunches, movie nights, the works. When she gets assigned to cover a new art gallery opening, she nearly passes it on to Nia (she’s senior enough she doesn’t have to do the puff pieces anymore), but takes the article just to have an excuse to invite Lena as her plus-one and have a night out.

Which is how Lena finds herself in an art gallery of all places on a warm Friday night. The gallery is cool at least, in both temperature and aesthetic. The space is light and clean, and she spends more time than she expects examining the art on display as Kara does her reporter thing.

There’s something… familiar, about the smeared washes of color. In one, mossy green fades to white like fields of grass on a bright morning. Another, shadows streaked with dark trunks evoke a forest at night. 

They’re all strangely ethereal, like a dream on the verge of waking, and while recognition hovers just out of reach, Lena stares far more than she usually does. 

“Do you like it?” 

Lena jolts at the unexpected voice at her shoulder. She turns to see a diminutive woman gazing at the same painting she was. Lena turns back towards the art, and lets her eyes drift over painted strokes.

“Yes,” Lena confesses, in spite of herself. “They’re amazing.”

“Forgive me, but when you first came in, it seemed you weren’t keen to be here.”

Lena chuckles. “I wasn’t, honestly. I’ve been to a lot of gallery openings, and I’ve seen a lot of bad art. And I've had to schmooze with the artists who think they’re the second coming of Michelangelo. But I’ve been pleasantly surprised here. I actually wouldn’t mind asking the artist a few questions myself.”

The woman smiles. “Well, then, ask away.”

It takes a shamefully long moment for the words to click in Lena’s brain. When they do, her eyes widen in mortification. 

“Oh, my god– you’re Rowena!” She laughs even as her cheeks heat in an embarrassed flush. “I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Rowena returns easily. “You just confirmed my work wasn’t bad art. And coming from Lena Luthor, that means quite a lot.”

“Just Lena, please,” Lena says, shaking the woman’s hand. “And yes, I very much like it.”

“It’s a little different from my usual kind of work, but this collection is one I’ve been working on for… oh, close to twenty years now. I was never certain I was going to show them to anyone, but it suddenly felt like it was time to do so.”

“I’m glad you did. They’re lovely.” Lena gazes at the painting again, and they stand in amiable silence for a long moment. “You know, a lot of artists try to twist what we see, reinvent the visual expression but you… here you seem to obscure it. It’s as though there’s a veil on the canvas. Like there’s a world inside it that we’re too far away to see.”

Rowena nods. “That’s one way to see it. There is always a lens between us and the rest of the world. For me, that lens is emotion, and memory. It filters my perception of the world, and this is all my best attempt to capture it, and share it. In the off chance someone understands.”

Lena gazes at the woman as she gazes at the painting, and there’s something familiar in the way she smiles. But whatever Lena hopes to say next is thwarted by Kara’s arrival.

“Oh, Miss Rowena! Kara Danvers, CatCo News. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions.”

Rowena nods. “Of course.” She turns to Lena with something indescribably heavy in her gaze. “It was lovely to meet you, Lena. I enjoyed our talk immensely. You have a good eye.”

“Likewise.”

Rowena and Kara move off to find a quieter corner, leaving Lena to stare at the next painting alone. By the time she and Kara leave, Lena’s stickers sit on two paintings. She picks the mossy field for the bare wall in her office, but the hazy shape of a cottage against a cloudy sky stays in her apartment. 

Somehow, it makes it feel more like home.

— 

Lena finds herself going back to the gallery, this time without Kara. It’s more on impulse than anything else, but when she finds that more haunting canvases have been added to fill what had been sold at the opening, she spends over an hour perusing them all.

Rowena leaves her be at first, but eventually offers tea– an offer Lena accepts. They get to talking. About art, and Rowena’s career, and her time abroad, studying with masters. They get friendly, and Lena returns again and again, sometimes as often as once a week.

It’s easy to talk to Rowena, Lena realizes. Rowena asks nothing of her, doesn’t try to sell her any art. And something about that lack of pressure prompts Lena to open up. When Rowena notices her tension one day, and asks in concern if everything is all right, the truth spills out of Lena: that her friend has been lying to her, and she doesn’t feel like she can confront them, and on top of that the stocks are still down following Lex’s stunt, and the board is breathing down her neck as if it’s all her fault.

“Maybe it is my fault,” she finishes, curling her hands around her cooling teacup. “If I hadn’t… nevermind.”

Rowena covers Lena’s hand with her own. “I was sorry to hear about your brother,” she says. She quickly continues when Lena’s eyes flash up in new wariness. “Not for his sake,” she assures Lena. “He did despicable things, and the dead don’t need our pity. But for every death there are countless lives affected by the loss.”

Lena lowers her gaze once more. “I lost him a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt,” Rowena replies. She pauses. “Did you see my new pieces on your way in? The pair?”

Lena nods. They’d shown largely the same scene, a meadow within a copse of trees, still with the veil obscuring the finer details. Between the two paintings, the color was the biggest difference. One was grey, awash in a sickly pallor. It’s mate was more vibrant, another sunny day in the world Rowena saw.

“I painted the first shortly after I lost someone dear to me.” Her gaze darkens, and Lena understands the pallor of the piece a little better. It wasn’t a cloudy day, then, but grief that colored the scene. “It was years before I could paint the second. I still see that place as it looks in the first, but I was ready to remember how I used to see it. I was ready to reach for the good.”

Not knowing what to say, Lena simply squeezes Rowena’s hand.

“It’s easy,” the artist continues, “to forget those left behind by loss. Unless you live with it yourself. When I saw the news about your brother, I thought of you.”

Every instinct ingrained in Lena tells her to withdraw, to reject the offered tenderness. _This is it_ , Lillian’s voice slithers in the back of her mind. _This is how she ensnares you. Don’t fall prey to it. Not this time._

But Rowena continues to look at her with nothing in her gaze but understanding, and Lena finds herself staying.

“You’re kind,” she says, in realization rather than platitude. Rowena is kind, and Lena accepts it with a grateful smile that pulls slightly against the tears building in her eyes.

She hasn’t let herself process what losing Lex has meant– or role in his demise. This is the closest she comes. While it’s not the catharsis one might expect, the door to her heart opens, and stands ajar. 

—

After that, her relationship with Rowena deepens, though Lena is helpless to put words to it. She keeps Rowena to herself, for herself, and cherishes whatever it is they’re building. She doesn’t even tell Kara how often she visits, though the reporter is aware that Lena’s taken a liking to her art.

They start having the occasional dinner together, and some overzealous reporters start speculating something lascivious– National City’s own Sarah Paulson and Holland Taylor. It’s nonsense of course, but Lena can’t deny the hooks that seem to have sunk deep into her soul, pulling her closer to the older woman.

Not romantic, but something deeper. 

She wonders if soulmates can be two platonic women, decades apart. 

She dismisses the ridiculous notion almost as soon as it occurs to her.

On one visit in late May, Lena arrives at the gallery while Rowena is finishing with a client. She tosses a little wave to her friend, just to let her know she’s there, and Rowena waves back with a beaming grin.

“Good morning, _acushla_! We sold the meadow garden– I think you’ll like what I put up in its place.”

She turns back to her customer, oblivious to the way Lena’s spine has locked in place as though struck by lightning. Eventually she forces her feet to the corner Rowena mentions, but the new painting is just a blur of color against the roaring in her ears.

Her heart is pounding by the time Rowena joins her, and Lena whirls to face her. 

“That– that word you called me. Just now.” Her voice catches in her chest. “Acushla, it’s– it’s Irish. Isn’t it?”

Rowena blinks in surprise, then flushes red. “Yes. It means ‘pulse of my heart’.”

Lena nods. “Yes. My mother–” Words always seem to come so easily when she’s with Rowena, it feels unnatural for them to be so sticky now. Lena swallows. “My mother was Irish.”

“I lost my _acushla_ many years ago, but you remind me of her a great deal.” Rowena stares at her, searching Lena’s gaze as though on the verge of sharing a great secret. Whatever it is, she keeps it to herself, because the searching gaze shifts to an anxious smile a moment later. “I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t mean to upset you–”

“No, it’s fine,” Lena lies, even as her heart thunders in her chest. She swallows thickly. “But I actually just remembered a meeting I nearly forgot about. I– I have to go.”

“Lena…”

“I’ll be back soon.”

As she sweeps out of the gallery, Lena nearly sobs on the words that had nearly spilled out of her.

_My mother used to call me that._

—

Lena doesn’t go back for nearly two weeks. It’s the longest she’s gone between visits since the opening, and when she finally steps back into the familiar space, she does so with the intent to come clean.

To share why she’d been so shaken. 

She hasn’t shared her mother with anyone since Adam, and the thought of doing so with a friend like Rowena terrifies her for reasons she can’t explain. But she can’t bear the thought of Rowena believing she's angry with her.

Waiting anxiously near the door as Rowena concludes a transaction, Lena tucks her arms around herself for comfort. It’ll be fine. Rowena won’t hate her for being away so long. She’ll understand, if Lena can just explain.

“Lena,” Rowena greets as she approaches, seemingly as reticent as Lena feels. “You came back.”

Lena nods, swallowing against a dry throat. “I’m sorry to have run off like that. I just… you should know that–”

“Wait,” Rowena interrupts gently. There isn’t an ounce of judgement or condemnation in the word, and Lena relaxes slightly in relief.

Rowena lifts a hand towards her. “May I show you something?”

Lena takes her offered palm, and allows herself to be led towards the back, and through a narrow door that delivers them into Rowena’s work space. 

Rowena draws her to an easel in the center of the room, its legs dinged and paint-spattered beneath the tarp that covers the canvas sitting on top.

“This is the last piece of my Forgotten Memory collection. The first one I painted, and the one I’ve never shown anyone. Until now.”

She draws back the muslin, and Lena’s breath locks in her chest at the scene captured in color on the canvas. It shares the same misty augmentation of the others, the illusion of faded memory, but its sharper than the rest. 

Through the blur Lena clearly recognizes the wooded shore and the mirrored surface of a flat, glassy lake.

All the blood drains from her face, chilling her.

“What–” Her mind reaches for words, even as it tilts out of control. “How did you–?”

“Lena…”

“Who are you?!” Lena demands, reeling back from Rowena’s steadying touch. She clings to the alarm that fills her, the only thing keeping her grounded. “And why do you have a painting of this lake?”

“It’s the last place I saw you.”

Lena can’t breathe. She freezes, strung tight as a wire, waiting to be cut. To fall. 

Rowena continues.

“It was your favorite place in the world, do you remember? We went there every chance we got.”

When Lena blinks, she feels moisture spill onto her cheeks.

“My mother drowned in that lake.”

Rowena blinks in shock. “Lena, no–”

“I watched her drown in that lake!” Lena cries. “I was there! I saw it happen! How do you know about it?!”

“Because I was there with you, Lena! You were four years old. You– you had just learned new numbers, and you wanted to use them to count how long I could hold my breath.”

Rowena nearly reaches for Lena again, but hugs herself instead, pressing a hand to her chest as tears filled her own eyes.

“' _Long as you can, mommy!_ ’” she echoes hoarsely behind a pained smile. “Those were your last words to me.”

“No–”

“When I came up again you were gone. I searched and searched, but I never found you. It wasn’t until your father sued for custody a month later that I learned what truly happened. He’d had you taken, and used the ease of your abduction as proof I was unfit.”

“That’s not possible–”

“There is nothing on Earth that Lionel Luthor could not make possible. I tried to fight him, but it was made clear that even if I won you back, he would never leave us be. He would drown me in legal fees until the state took you from me anyway. So I– I let you go. And I never saw you again.”

Lena can only stare in shock. She wants to deny it– she wants to cry that her father would never do something like. But she can’t. She isn’t so naive anymore. She knows in her bones he very will could, and has, done things so terrible. And worse.

“I never forgave myself, _acushla_. Please, believe that much, if nothing else. I never stopped thinking of you.”

Shaking her head, Lena turned away. “This can’t be possible.”

Rowena took a trembling breath. “I tried to find the custody papers, to show you as proof, but… I couldn’t find them. No matter how hard I looked, there was nothing. Like I never existed at all. But they are there, Lena, I promise you. Buried, or sealed, or destroyed… I am telling you the truth.”

“I watched her drown,” Lena gasped. “I saw it…”

The woman claiming to be her mother doesn’t have any further counterargument. How could she? Rowena can only shrug helplessly.

“Maybe it was easier to believe that, than to believe that your mother would give you up.”

The world yawns in Lena’s ears. She needs to leave, right now. Get out. _Get out, get out now._

Lena turns on her heel and escapes the room, Rowena, and the lake that has haunted her for her entire life.

—

She doesn’t go back. 

But she can’t shake it off, either. Between the trust she’s built in Rowena and the trust she’s lost in all things Luthor, Lena starts digging.

She can’t do it alone. It takes three months and the combined might of Lena’s money, Kara’s investigative instincts, and Alex’s DEO access to finally find the truth.

And the truth is Rowena’s. Lena stares at the custody papers– signed after the death certificate Lena had dug up as early as her seventeenth birthday. She stares at those papers, and still searches for any excuse for it not to be true.

“My mother might be alive,” she rasps finally, after days of torturous contemplation, “but that doesn’t mean Rowena is her.”

—

Kara is the one who next steps into Rowena’s gallery. Rowena recognizes her after a long moment, and the hope that lifts to her eyes almost makes Kara start tearing up right there.

“Kara, right? You’re Lena’s friend.”

Kara nods.

“I thought I’d lost her for good this time.”

Schooling her features, Kara pulls a small swab kit out of her purse. “Lena’s asked for a DNA sample.” 

“Of course,” comes the immediate response. “Anything.”

They move to the counter, and as Kara takes her time setting up, she studies Rowena carefully.

“Why now?” she asks.

“Hm?”

“Why reach out now?” Kara clarifies. “After all this time…”

Shadows darken Rowena’s gaze. “I’d hoped she’d come seek me out, when she grew older. When she didn’t, I believed it was because she blamed me– which I knew I deserved. But when I saw the news about Lex, I… I couldn’t stand to lose another second with her.”

Kara lifted the swab, and Rowena opened her mouth so she could rub it against the inside of her cheek. It took less than ten seconds, and as Kara deposited the swab into the sterile tube and capped it, it was Rowena’s turn to study her.

“I don’t want to hurt Lena,” she quietly. “I’ve loved her since the day she was born, and I– I just want to get to know the woman she’s become.”

Blue eyes regard her solemnly. “I believe you,” Kara says finally. “But Lena’s been through a lot. She’s been hurt before, and she’s wary of trusting people– especially those who claim to be family.”

Rowena swallows, blinking back tears. “I’d hoped that Lionel would have loved her, to want her so badly.”

“The Luthors aren’t kind people,” Kara tells her. “They take care of their own, but who counts as their own has been rather nebulous where Lena’s concerned.”

She tucks the kit back in her bag, and slides the strap onto her shoulder.

“Can I offer you some advice?”

Rowena nods. “Please,” she says, all but begging.

“Don’t reach out to Lena.”

She can see Rowena’s heart drop, and quickly continues.

“Lena takes time to process. If you try to rush or force that process, you’ll lose her. Trust me.” She'd nearly made the same mistake, not so long ago. She's lucky Lena had given her a second chance-- one she can't guarantee would be offered to Rowena. Kara offers her a kind smile.

“Lena’s a creature of love,” she promises. “She’ll find her way back to you when she’s ready for yours.”

—

Alex does the DNA sequencing herself. No one is about to trust an outside lab, and while Lena is fully capable, Alex warns against bias.

“Just give me two days, and you’ll know for sure.”

And two days later, the truth is Rowena’s again.

Lena leaves Kara’s apartment, and they don’t hear from her for days.

It takes months for Lena to wrestle with the conflicting feelings that tumble in her chest. Her mother’s death has been a part of her for as long as she can remember, and without it she feels adrift. 

She feels guilty for not being immediately overjoyed. 

She feels ashamed for being afraid.

And it disquiets her to have such a vivid memory of something that never happened.

Lena spends months waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Rowena to reach out, demanding her love, her attention, her money. But it never comes, and she finally makes her decision.

She makes and remakes it all the way to Rowena’s gallery one November afternoon. It’s the weekend, but the shop is empty. Empty save for Rowena.

Empty save for her mother.

—

Rowena emerges from the back at the sound of the doorbell tinkling, and freezes at the sight of her daughter.

She’d all but given up hope of seeing Lena in her shop again, but here she is: wide-eyed and stiff as a board.

Unable to keep from smiling, Rowena steps forward. “Lena…”

Lena recoils, reaching for Kara Danvers’ wrist, who Rowena only now sees standing half a step behind her daughter. Rowena stops short, the reporter’s words echoing in her ears.

“I found the records,” Lena grates out from behind a jaw so tense Rowena can nearly hear her teeth grinding. “And the DNA test confirmed it.”

Rowena sucks in a ragged breath. “ _Acushla_ …”

“Don’t call me that,” Lena snaps, only to soften a moment later when Kara places a hand of reassurance on her arm. “Not– not yet.”

“Okay,” Rowena whispers, nodding.

“I don’t know you,” Lena explains. As she speaks, her tension cracks, and a sob plucks at her voice. “But I want to.”

Rowena nods, blinking back tears to match her daughter’s.

“So do I,” she says. 

Anguish twists sharply in her chest at the memory of all the time they’ve lost, at the bitter knowledge she shouldn’t have to meet her daughter as a stranger. It’s eased by the relief of knowing that even after all these years, she still has a chance.

“So do I.“ 


	2. Chapter 2

It takes time for Lena and Rowena to reclaim their ease. The truth hangs over them, a perpetual reminder that every moment means so much more than the one before. But they try.

Their progress is made in little moments.

The first time Rowena reaches out in conversation, her fingers brushing Lena’s arm without reaction, her heart thunders with alarm. What if she’s ruined it already? 

But Lena carries on as though she never even noticed.

When Rowena shares a story– she doesn’t even remember which one– Lena throws her head back and laughs. This time, her heart soars, to see the same scrunched nose smile that Lena always had. 

She reclaims her daughter, a little at a time.

—

Their bond is still in its infancy when Lena walks into Rowena’s gallery to find Lillian looming over her mother with an arch brow. 

“Get away from her!” Lena snarls, planting herself between them with her arms outstretched.

Kara is close at her heels– they’d come for brunch, and Rowena still feels blessed to be included in at least one more aspect of Lena’s life– but hangs back, clearly ready to let Lena set the tone of whatever came next.

Lillian, for her part, is less than concerned to see her daughter’s ire.

“Don’t be so overdramatic, Lena,” she replies, stepping back as though to show her lack of interest. “I’m not here to murder anyone. We were just having a conversation.”

“You don’t get to have a conversation with her,” Lena snaps back.

Lillian’s head tilts in bemusement. “Even as a customer?”

“Oh, bullSHIT.”

“Lena…” Kara tries to place a hand on her shoulder, only to be shrugged away.

“Did you know?” Lena demands, voice rising with fury.

“Calm down–”

“Did. You. Know.”

Lillian blinks, jaw firming. “Ye–”

Lena’s palm cracks across Lillian’s cheek before the word fully leaves her mouth. Lillian reels, out of surprise more than anything else, even as Lena lunges for her again, only to be hauled back by Kara and Rowena both. 

“How DARE you!”

“Lena, stop–!”

“You fucking _bitch–”_

Rowena lends her voice to the chaos, hoping to calm her daughter. “Lena, it was Lionel’s doing– she wasn’t the one who wanted you–”

“You think I don’t KNOW THAT?” Lena cries, rounding on Rowena so swiftly that the artist shrinks back instinctively. She doesn’t know this Lena. From Kara’s alarm, she’s not sure anyone does. 

“Every single DAY for the past twenty years she has made sure I knew exactly how much she DIDN’T want me!”

Lena whirls back to Lillian, bumping against Kara still running interference. She glares at her adoptive mother, as hot angry tears pinch from the corners of her eyes. 

“Did you even think about her? All those years that you made me grovel for every shred of affection you deigned to give me, knowing all along there was someone out there who loved me– did you EVER think about her?”

A chiseled jaw lifts, somehow still retaining Lillian’s moral superiority. 

“Of course I did,” she says. From her tone, Rowena knows whats coming next, and internally braces as Lillian’s head gives a smug tilt.

“Who do you think sent the Christmas cards?”

All the air seems to suck from the room, leaving deafening silence in its wake.

Lena is the first to recover. “What?”

“Every Christmas, your mother received the Luthor family Christmas card, detailing your biggest accomplishments and a photo of you.” Lillian gazes at her. “I sent them.”

As her rage shifted rapidly to confusion, Lena started to tremble. “But… why?”

“Because I pitied her.” 

It’s clear that pity was all it was, because there’s no trace of compassion in her now. 

Lena has nothing else to stay. She simply stares, unable to formulate a response. In the end, Lillian reaches into her purse, and though Kara stiffens in alarm, all she pulls from it is a stack of envelopes, bound six inches deep, all sealed.

“I came to deliver these,” she says.

Rowena recognizes each and every one, sent by her own hand to express her pride and love for the daughter who never responded. She’d always wondered if she’d ever gotten them. Now she knows.

“You understand why I withheld them,” she says, this time to Rowena directly.

Rowena nods stiffly, but Lena snatches them from Lillian’s hand, radiating with new rage.

“No,” she growls. “I don’t understand. I thought I did– I thought I understood why you were so cruel. Because I wasn’t yours, because my fa–” She trips over the word. “Because he forced you to accept me into your home, when I had nowhere else to go.”

Lena hugs the stack of envelopes to her chest, as though they could somehow steady her shaking voice.

“But I did have somewhere else. I had _someone_ – someone who cared for me, who WANTED me, and I– never understood just how cruel you truly were.”

Her jaw tightens, mirroring Lillian as she lifts her chin.

“You knew. And you knew it was wrong. But you let him do it anyway.” Disgust turns Lena’s gaze haughty. “You’re a bigger monster than he ever was.”

Though Lillian doesn’t move, Rowena catches the flicker of hurt that flashes behind the woman’s eyes. Rowena almost feels guilty, aching for a woman losing a daughter, but Lena’s trembling rage halts that in its tracks. 

This woman did not love Lena. Not the way Lena needed. 

Of all the things Lena has shared with her, both before the reveal and after, Lena's childhood has never been one of them. Rowena has no idea what Lena’s survived, and it pains her to realize that Lena was stolen from her for this-- a family with cold eyes and colder shoulders, without love or affection. They stole Lena from her, and didn't even cherish her.

She reaches out, and places her hand at the small of Lena’s back. She can’t do much in the face of that trademark Luthor might. She never could. 

But she can stand with Lena. 

That much she can do.

“Get out,” Lena snaps, daring Lillian to protest, to feign interest in reconciliation. 

Lillian does neither.

She lingers for only a heartbeat before departing without another word.  
  
They watch her leave in silence, a quiet that persists long after the tall woman disappears from sight.

“Lena…” Rowena starts, only to freeze when Lena pulls away sharply.

“I can’t do this.”

Lena leaves without a second glance.

Kara trots after her, only to return after a short exchange at the door.

“I’m going to hang with you for a bit,” the reporter delivers casually.

“No," Rowena protests. "Lena needs–”

“Lena’s the one who asked,” Kara explains gently. “Just in case Lillian changes her mind.”

“About what?”

“Not killing you.”

Rowena doesn’t even have it in her to be alarmed at the potential threat, or alarmed at the woman’s casual nonchalance about it.

All she can think about is the fact that Lena took the letters with her.

—

Rowena knows Lena needs space. She’s heeded Kara’s advice thus far and it’s worked out well enough. But the thought of Lena struggling with the same pain she felt, without her, proved to be unbearable.

She asked the doorman for Lena’s apartment number, but isn’t surprised when she isn’t given it. 

“Someone’s on their way down,” he tells her instead.

It’s Kara. 

“How is she?” Rowena asks.

The reporter shrugs solemnly. “Not good.”

“I’ll leave,” she promises, “I just needed to know–”

“Actually,” Kara interjects. “Don’t.”

Rowena can scarcely dare to breathe. “Really?”

“I don't know how to help her with this,” she confesses. “But maybe you can.”

Kara speaks briefly with the doorman, then comes back with a key. 

“You’re cleared to go up. I’m going to go grab some food, so… take as much time as you need.”

—

When Rowena unlocks the door with a faint knock, she steps into an apartment bigger than her studio and work space combined. She can tell it usually lives its life in pristine order, but today Lena sits on the couch amidst a sea of chaos.

Letters fill every inch of space within arms reach, and Lena herself has one in each hand, reading with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, honey…”

Lena’s head snaps up, her teary eyes focusing on Rowena in an instant. But instead of the anger she anticipates, Rowena gets only a perilous moment of utter stillness, before Lena’s features crumple, and she begins to sob in earnest.

Rowena is at her side in an instant, and Lena folds into her arms as though she’d never left them. The sobs that pour out of Lena carry the weight of the years strewn around them, marked in the pages of letters documenting their life apart. They’re huge, and wracking and leave Rowena’s shirt damp with tears and mucus, but Rowena holds her daughter tight, murmuring soft words she’d thought she’d never have the chance to say again.

“I love you so, so much, _acushla_ ,” Rowena soothes. “I have loved you all your life. I will love you for the rest of mine.”

—

Kara doesn’t return that night.

Rowena is grateful for the time alone with Lena, because when Lena has no more tears she falls into an exhausted sleep, head pillowed in Rowena’s lap. And Rowena is permitted a brief time to savor the intimacy, as her fingers stroke Lena’s dark hair, and an old lullaby rises to a hum in her throat.

“I didn’t know.”

Lena announces her wakefulness with a dull voice to break the quiet. 

“I looked for you. I found your death certificate. Or– someone’s death certificate. If I had known– I wouldn’t have stopped looking. You have to believe that.”

Her daughter’s voice cracks ominously in the growing shadows.

“I do, _acushla_.” Of course she does.

Lena hiccups, a small smile easing the anguish in her voice. “You know, I used to imagine talking to you. I would imagine you sitting next to me on my bed, and I’d talk to the air like you were really there, telling you everything that was happening in my life.”

Rowena takes a deep breath, and tucks away the deep and unhelpful wish that she had been there too. She tucks it away, and pulls up an honest smile, tucking Lena’s hair behind a pale ear.

“Tell me now,” Rowena urges. “Tell me everything.”

—

Lena does. She starts as far back as she can remember of first living with the Luthors– being nervous in ballet and rubbish at the piano, sneaking treats from the dessert tables at every society functions she was brought to– and takes Rowena through everything that followed.

Boarding school with Veronica Sinclair, who had made Lena’s life hell, until Lena learned that all it took was one devastating blow to get the villainous Ronnie off her back for good. 

What that revenge was, Rowena doesn’t quite know, because Lena is already spinning off into her college years, and the joy of being distanced from her family, being challenged and stimulated in ways she never had been before.

Rowena learns about Jack and Sam and Ruby. She’s aware when Lena neatly dodges the subject of Lex’s arrest and trial and conviction, but she doesn’t much mind because suddenly her daughter is giggling in her lap, telling her about the time Kara Danvers challenged three college football stars to a cheeseburger eating contest– and out-ate all three of them. Combined.

The moment Rowena hears that tinkle of mirth, something inside clicks back into place, and warmth pours from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.

She can’t change what they’ve lost. But Rowena knows in that moment that she will never lose her daughter again.

—

The months that follow are the happiest of Rowena’s life, and from the sly smiles that Kara gives her at their weekly brunch while Lena rambles enthusiastically about developments in her latest projects, she imagines Lena was never quite so happy either.

She celebrates Christmas with Lena and the Danvers family in Kara’s apartment. She sips eggnog with Eliza and revels in the warmth that fills the room as the kids play game after game with reckless enthusiasm. 

“I understand that your relationship with Lena is complicated,” Eliza says softly. “But I hope you don’t mind me saying that Lena is an extraordinary woman. And that as a mother, I am thrilled that my daughters have her in their lives.”

Since the confrontation with Lillian Luthor, things between Lena and Rowena have actually felt less complicated. As though they both have accepted that while they will never recover their missing years, they can make the most of their future, and will do so with all their might.

Still, Rowena smiles with pride and gratitude.

Because she still feels very lucky indeed.

—

Lena and Rowena do brunch with Kara every week, but they also start having tea, just the two of them. Same tea house, same table, same time and day every week. It’s a time just for them, and Rowena cherishes every second of it.

Which is why when Lena flounces into her seat one Sunday morning with coy smile and expectation in her eyes, Rowena immediately knows something is up.

Lena’s smile grows when Rowena’s gaze catches on the diamond ring dazzling brightly on her left hand.

“Is that–?” Rowena breathes.

“It happened last night,” Lena says in a rush, scooting to the edge of her seat in excitement. “Which is good because I wanted you to be the first person I told and I don’t think I could have waited much longer than that!”

“Oh, honey!!” Rowena captures Lena’s face with both hands and kisses her cheek soundly. “I am so, so happy for you.”

Lena’s smile turns quiet, and her eyes start to shine with moisture. Rowena doesn’t release her, searching her daughter’s gaze intently.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Will–” Lena’s voice breaks, and she swallows audibly before trying again. “Will you walk me down the aisle?”

The world seems to still, and Rowena blinks as it rights itself back onto its axis.

“We don’t really know when or where the ceremony will be, but–”

“Yes.”

Lena blinks at her, and a tears shakes free. “You will?”

The tear meets a swift end under Rowena’s thumb as she dries it away.

“I would be honored just to be there, _acushla_ ,” she rasps against her own imminent tears. “Of course I will walk you down the aisle.”

When Lena answers her with a hug, Rowena’s ribs creak under the force of it.

Rowena kisses Lena’s hair, and squeezes her just as tightly.

— 

The night of Lena’s wedding, Rowena can barely bring herself to breathe for fear of dispelling the dream she suddenly inhabits.

Lena looks stunning, and Kara is beautiful bride, and every moment is the one Rowena is certain she’ll wake up at the gates of St. Peter with an angel telling her she’s already in heaven.

But she remains grounded to the living world and is filled to brimming with the good spirits that permeate the reception hall. Lena is breathless with happiness almost the entire night, and Rowena can’t tear her eyes away.

After the couple’s first dance, Eliza takes Kara, and Rowena takes Lena, and the four of them dance to a long, slow song. It gives them all a chance to catch their breath. Others soon join them, and in the crowd they almost find a little bit of privacy.

Rowena is still trying to find the right words to say when Lena drifts to a stop, standing silent and still in a sea of swaying bodies. But she doesn’t pull away. Lena stands in her mother’s arms, face pressed into her shoulder, and holds her tightly.

The quickening of her breath is the only outward sign of Lena’s silent tears. Rowena nods against her daughter’s head, rubbing soft circles against her back. 

“I know, honey,” she murmurs. She nearly pulls back, desperate to dry Lena’s tears, but allows Lena her moment to release whatever emotion had overwhelmed her.

Rowena catches Kara’s eye, and gets a nod of reassurance along with a soft smile. 

“It’s okay, _acushla_.”

They have all the time in the world.

—

Lena’s request to visit the lake is unexpected.

Rowena stares as though her daughter’s grown a second head. 

“Why on Earth would you want to go back?”

It might have been Lena’s favorite place, once upon a time, but now Rowena only knows it as a place of loss. First, as she scoured it for weeks for any trace of Lena, and then later as the place she visited to mourn. The painting in her workshop was as close as she ever cared to go again.

But Lena doesn’t have a reason. At least, not one she can articulate. 

“I don’t know,” she said solemnly. “It’s just… something I need to do. And I want you there with me.”

Which is how Rowena finds herself on the shore of that glassy lake surrounded by trees. There’s the rock in the sand Lena used to play behind, that the older children climbed and jumped off of, broad and flat and jutting out over the water. There’s the platform that always teemed with children– the one Lena always tried to paddle towards, only to get distracted halfway there by an interesting clump of algae or some silvery fish darting through the water.

And here is the spot she last saw her daughter twenty years ago, four years old and waving happily at her, pinching her own nose to count despite being on dry land.

They stand on the shore hand-in-hand, and Rowena wants to know what Lena sees as she stares mutely across the water. She said she saw Rowena drown– is she trying to spot discrepancies between her memory of that day with what she sees now, searching for further evidence that it never happened? 

Or is Rowena’s hand in hers enough?

Before she can ask, Lena’s hand slips from her grasp. 

Rowena watches her daughter kick off her sneakers, and calmly remove her clothes until she’s in nothing but her underwear. 

“Lena!”

The haunt in Lena’s eyes vanishes beneath a devilish smile, as she climbs onto the giant boulder. 

“Lena, don't– just-- be careful–!”

Rowena’s warning is drowned out by the slap of bare feet on rock as Lena dashes towards the water. She launches herself off the furthest point of the rock, hanging briefly in mid-air before crashing into the lake with a deafening splash.

Heart thundering in her chest, Rowena stares as Lena surfaces a moment later, laughing with delight.

“Come on in, mom! The water’s great!”

“Not a chance.”

Lena’s lips twist in a pout, before turning lazily to float on her back. “Fine, if you’re too scared…”

“Scared?” Rowena’s pride kicks in, and ohhhhh Lena’s smirk of triumph is almost enough to keep her out of the water in pure spite. Almost. “Oh, you’re on.”

She ditches her shoes and clothes and climbs onto the rock. The stone is cold beneath her feet, but worn smooth by the elements and the countless feet that have traversed this very same sprint. 

“ _TAWANDA!_ ” Rowena crows, running full speed towards the drop. Ice cold water closes over her head, and she surfaces with a cough of surprise to the sound of Lena laughing.

“Lena Kieran Luthor!” Rowena scolds, splashing water into her daughter’s giggling face with every syllable. “This. Water. Is. Freezing!”

“Ack!” Lena splutters. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!”

Rowena ceases her onslaught, and for a long moment they tread water in the quiet of their solitude.

It really is beautiful here. Rowena had forgotten how beautiful.

“You know,” Lena says in a low voice. Rowena turns to look at her. “I’m a lot bigger now– I bet I could hold my breath as long as you. Longer, even.”

Rowena can’t help but smile. She gazes at her daughter’s wet face and slicked hair, and thanks again whatever god exists that Lena has found her way back to her.

“Long as you can, _acushla_.” 

With a deep breath, they both sink below the surface, holding hands all the way down.


	3. Chapter 3

When March rolls around, Rowena's heart tightens with anticipation. For the first time in twenty-two years, she can be with her daughter on her birthday.  
  
In the weeks leading up to the date in question, Rowena waits for Lena to mention it first, coiled and ready. But she never does.  
  
When the day finally comes she has Lena's gift couriered to L-Corp. She doesn't expect anything to come out of it, accepting the reality that despite their growing closeness, she does not yet have access to this.   
  
But in the middle of the afternoon, she receives a phone call from a familiar number. Answering with a soft smile, Rowena picks up with a gentle greeting.  
  
"Happy Birthday, _acushla_."  
  
There's a long silence on the other end of the line, broken only by a ragged breath.  
  
"You remembered," her daughter coughs wetly. A sniff follows, and Rowena imagines she can see Lena dabbing at her eyes.   
  
"Of course I did."  
  
"Well, then you're better than I am."  
  
The only way a person forgets their birthday is if no one else remembers-- and knowing Kara Danvers, the only way it could be forgotten is if Lena never shared it. And the only reason Lena might not have shared it...  
  
How many birthdays did the Luthors let slip by unnoticed?  
  
"Kara's arranging something tonight at her place... and, um... I'd-- I'd like you to be there."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Lena coughs a laugh. "Yes, I am definitely sure. The more people there are, the less Kara will yell at me for forgetting my own birthday, so."  
  
Rowena chuckles, allowing the warmth of Lena's voice to spill over her. "I would love to be there."  
  
She arrives that night with a bottle of wine and a heavy wooden crate. The door opens to Lena's smiling face, hair down, and Rowena cherishes the way her daughter's smie brightens at the sight of her.  
  
"Hi! You made it."  
  
"Wouldn't have missed it for the world," Rowena returns. She shifts the crate under one arm to free the other to extend the wine towards Lena.  
  
"Oh, thank you," Lena receives it before looping Rowena into a loose hug. "You being here is more than enough."  
  
"I wanted to." She greets Kara as well, who collects the wine and gives them another moment alone to speak. Rowena shifts the crate back to her front and shrugs towards it as though it were an after thought. "I brought these as well. You don't have to open them now..."  
  
"What are they?" Lena asks.  
  
"Gifts," Rowena responds softly. "I got you presents every year, but I thought if I sent them..."  
  
She trails off, and quickly reorients. "I held onto them in case I ever got the chance to give them to you myself."  
  
Lena stares at her, eyes glinting with tears.  
  
"You don't have to open them now. Or ever. I just... this was the first birthday I've gotten to celebrate with--"  
  
She trails off when Lena's hands brush hers to receive the crate and hug it to her chest.  
  
"If you have this weekend free, maybe--" Lena swallows. "Maybe you could stop by, and we could open them together."  
  
Rowena smiles to hide the way her vision wobbles through her own welling tears. "I'd like that."  
  
She holds her breath for the rest of that night and the remainder of the week, waiting for the inevitable call that Lena has changed her mind. But come the weekend, she finds herself in Lena's apartment (restored to its proper order), and sits beside her daughter on the couch to watch the wrappings come off, one parcel at a time.  
  
Somehow, she's not surprised that Lena finds the numbers she's inscribed to mark which gift was meant for each birthday-- nor that Lena starts with the earliest ones and works her way forward.  
  
It's one of the few things still recognizable from her childhood: her methodical approach to all things persists, and warms Rowena's heart to see.  
  
The first gift is a small stuffed rabbit, which Rowena remembers as being much larger in a four year old's arms.

"I don't know if you remember," Rowena explains, as Lena runs her hands over the pilled and nubbly fur, "but you loved this bunny to the moon and back."  
  
Lena nods, her gaze distant as she rifles through her memories. "Yes, I think... I called her Mrs... Mrs..."  
  
"Mrs. Fluffkins."  
  
_"Mrs. Fluffkins!"_ Lena giggles. "Yes, that was it!"  
  
"You dragged her everywhere with you-- often by the ears. Which eventually fell off." Rowena watches Lena lift the animal to her nose, inhaling gently. Her eyes close, and Rowena wonders if she can see that moment, or one of the countless tea parties they shared with Mrs. Fluffkins, however indistinct.  
  
"A few weeks before-- before our last trip tp the lake, I'd sent her off with a friend of mine who specialized in mending plush animals. I told you Mrs. Fluffkins had gone on a grand adventure to travel the world. I intended for her to return in grand fashion on your birthday, suitcases and all."  
  
Lena's nose scrunches in delight. "I bet I would have loved that."  
  
"Oh, but she was in for a stern scolding! You were very cross she went without you."  
  
Mrs. Fluffkins remains in Lena's lap as she works her way through the years-- through the books Rowena was certain she'd like, and small beautiful trinkets that sparkle in the light.   
  
For her ninth birthday, there's the beautiful handcrafted chess set Rowena had commissioned from a friend long ago, made of blown glass speckled with a kaleidoscope of colors.   
  
"You won your first chess tournament that year," Rowena tells her softly. Lena runs her fingers over the pieces, feeling the swirled ridges of the bishops cap, and the bumpy crown of the queen. "Lillian sent an article clipping with the annual card."  
  
"It's lovely," Lena breathes.   
  
She takes the time to set the board, lining the figures up with fluent precision. "Do you play?" she asks as she works.  
  
Rowena shakes her head no. "Maybe you could teach me."  
  
Then there's a book of poetry for Lena's thirteenth birthday, its pages full of pressed flowers.  
  
For her sixteenth-- a small charm engraved with an angel, to hang from the rearview mirror of a car.  
  
"To keep you safe," is all Rowena says.  
  
And on and on... through intricately embroidered scarves and a porcelain tea set, and rings and necklaces.  
  
"Thank you," Lena says, when the last is unwrapped and sitting on the coffee table beside the chess set. Only Mrs. Fluffkins remains in Lena's lap, her fingers stroking the long velveteen ears. "They're all-- perfect."  
  
Rowena suspects that quite a few have missed the mark-- guessing at a personality developed a world away and a lifetime apart has its limits. But Lena's gratitude seems genuine, and Rowena accepts it as such.   
  
She wonders if the gratitude is simply for the sentiment behind each gift. Or perhaps she cherishes even the bad gifts as a new experience, after a lifetime of impersonal gifts selected by staff.   
  
Again she wonders how many birthdays she's celebrated at all.  
  
Which makes Rowena's next confession ache all the more.  
  
"This is the first year I don't know what to get you," she says quietly. "All these years, I've always found something that reminds me of you, but now... I'm sorry."  
  
"I don't need anything."  
  
"Of course you don't, but-- there has to be something you would've asked me for."  
  
Lena swallows audibly. "I've already got it."  
  
She looks up through her lashes, and in them Rowena sees her own love reflected back at her. Her heart melts, and it's all she can do to keep from bursting into tears.   
  
"But, uhm..." Lena changes the subject, affecting a smile that reaches her tearing eyes. Her voice brightens, but remains soft. "I've never made a birthday cake..."  
  
Kara returns home that afternoon to Lena and Rowena standing side by side at the sink, washing and drying mixing bowls and baking pans as they speak in soft voices. A cake sits on the island behind them, resplendent with piped roses and elegant script reading 'Happy Birthday.'

Rowena stays for dinner, and helps Kara sing before Lena blows out the candles. By the time she finally hugs her mother good-bye, Lena is all soft eyes and gentle smiles.  
  
All evening, Kara watches them with warmth in her heart, and doesn't even mind that her cuddle duties that night have been assumed by a stuffed rabbit with floppy ears.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few people wanted to see the first time Lena calls Rowena "Mom", so...

Rowena wishes she'd never met Supergirl.  
  
She'd been perfectly content for the superhero to remain at a distance, an unshakeable, benevolent figure who saves lives and halts catastrophes but remains utterly removed from her and hers.  
  
But here she is, standing before Rowena with an unspoken truth lying between them.  
  
Lena is missing.  
  
In two weeks there's been nothing-- no word, no ransom. No body.  
  
It's the lake all over again, and Rowena's heart seizes with the knowledge that Lionel and Lex are dead, and the only people left to take her are enemies.  
  
After this long, logic says Lena is already dead.  
  
After twenty years of waiting, Rowena refuses to accept that.  
  
So she stares at a silent hero, her daughter's friend, and asks the question she knows Supergirl cannot answer.  
  
"Where is she?"  
  
Blue eyes deepen, hollow in their impotence. "I don't know. I've searched-- everywhere."  
  
"Lillian Luthor--"  
  
"She was the first person we looked at. We searched every known holding and property in the Luthor name, but as far as we can tell, Lillian's clean."  
  
Rowena swallows. Lillian had been her last hope-- she'd prayed that Lena's confrontation with her adopted mother had prompted an attempt by Lillian to reclaim Lena. Because if she had... if it had been Lillian, then she'd need her daughter alive.  
  
"We won't give up," the hero vows.   
  
Opening her eyes, Rowena meets Supergirl eyes with a piercing gaze. "You find my daughter, Supergirl," she orders firmly. Desperately. Her voice cracks. "You bring her home."  
  
She's only just gotten Lena back.  
  
Supergirl nods. "I will."  
  
When she lifts off into the air, Rowena shivers and pulls her sweater more tightly around her.  
  
She wishes she'd never met Supergirl.   
  
She wishes she couldn't see how human she was.  
  
\---  
  
Three days later, Rowena's gallery fills with flowers. One delivery van after the other pulls up in front of the shop and one bouquet after another files in, until her business looks like she deals in botanicals rather than art.  
  
There are over twenty arrangements in all, beautiful and lavish to the very last. The final delivery is a card, slipped under the ribbon on a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.  
  
She doesn't recognize the handwriting, but the words inscribed pulls a sob to her throat.  
  
_Happy Mother's Day_  
  
_Flowers for every one I missed, and a special treat just because._  
  
_All my heart,_  
 _Lena_  
  
As Rowena dissolves into tears in a sea of flowers, she isn't sure what breaks her heart more: the blessing of Lena's clear intent to celebrate with her... or the cruel twist of fate that had prevented her from doing so.   
  
Rowena reads the card again and again, until the words sound like Lena's voice in her head.  
  
\---  
  
Two weeks later, Lena's been gone over a month, and the news has moved on, relegating her daughter to a brief mention of 'no new information' before discussing the scandals of politicians and inflating gas prices.   
  
Rowena's waited two decades without losing hope, but this month feels different. Hopeless. Each day chips at her, until she's on the verge of crumbling.   
  
Until one day, Supergirl lands in front of her on the pavement on Rowena's walk home, scattering pedestrians who pause to stare.  
  
It's the second time Rowena has seen Supergirl in person, but the first time she's seen the hands on her hips, eyes blazing.  
  
The hero doesn't speak a word, but she doesn't need to. Her beaming smile says it all.  
  
_We found her._  
  
Lena's alive.  
  
\---  
  
Supergirl delivers her to the DEO, to find Lena already arguing with Kara Danvers' sister from her hospital bed.  
  
"I don't want to stay here, Alex, I'm fine--"  
  
"We don't know that--"  
  
"Agent Danvers."  
  
Oh. Rowena hasn't heard ice like that since the last time she spoke to Lionel.  
  
Clearly, Alex doesn't expect it either. She stops short, gaze flashing, and falls silent.  
  
"I have spent the past month in a sewer electrical closet. All I want is a hot shower and my own bed."  
  
"Lena--"  
  
"I will sign whatever AMAs I have to, but I am going. Home."  
  
Alex holds firm, but barely. "You need observation."  
  
Just as Lena opens her mouth to fire a return volley, Rowena speaks up.   
  
"I'll stay with her."

Both heads whip towards her, drying the words in her throat. She stares at Lena, at the half-healed split in her bottom lip and the fresh bruise blossoming around her right eye, which still swelled slightly. A small white bandage on her forehead peeks out from under the fall of her hair, but it's the surprise in Lena's that steals Rowena's breath.  
  
Surprise that she was there? Surprise that she would make such an offer? Rowena doesn't know.  
  
She clears her throat and tries again.  
  
"Or you could stay with me," she says to Lena, before turning her gaze to Alex. "If I can keep eye on her, would that put you at ease, Agent Danvers?"  
  
The agent clearly isn't thrilled, and it certainly isn't her preference, but she seems to know that this will not be a fight she can win peacefully. She sighs.  
  
"Fine." Alex pegs Lena with a hard stare. "But I want you back here for testing and further evaluation tomorrow. Deal?"  
  
Though also not entirely happy, Lena must sense it's all the victory she's going to get.   
  
"Fine."  
  
\---  
  
The ride home is quiet. Lena stares out the window, looking at nothing. Rowena stares at her, memorizing her profile. As she gazes, Lena slowly blinks, releasing a soft breath.   
  
"I missed Mother's Day."  
  
It's the farthest thing from Rowena's mind. It feels ages ago, but the soft admission pulls fresh tears to her eyes. Reaching between them, she gently takes Lena's hand in hers.   
  
"There'll be more."  
  
\---  
  
Whatever energy had fueled Lena's temper at the DEO diminishes by the time they make it up to her apartment. She visibly flags by the time she makes it to the couch, and sits there to catch her breath.   
  
"I'm okay," she says, before Rowena can even think about asking. "Just tired."  
  
Rowena swallows her worry, and hides her nerves by asking a single question.  
  
"What do you need?"  
  
Lena's shoulders lift. "A moment."  
  
Rowena nods. "I'll, um-- I'll make you something to eat?"  
  
A nod answers her, and Rowena disappears into the kitchen, grateful for something to do. She hasn't done this in years-- four year old Lena loved cuddles when she was sick, often burrowing into Rowena's side even when she was burning up with fever.  
  
This Lena seems as unfamiliar with having someone to care for her as Rowena is with this Lena who can't seem to stand the attention.  
  
It takes ten minutes to heat the can of soup she finds in the cupboard, but by the time she returns to the living room, Lena is asleep on her side, her feet tucked against the armrest and hand buried under her arms.  
  
Without the stony set of her features, the bruises on Lena's battered face stands out all the more vividly.   
  
Anger flashed bright and hot, chasing towards the memory of a man long dead. There are many things Rowena will never forgive Lionel for, but this will forever be what burns most. In claiming her he painted a target on Lena's back, one that haunted her from beyond his grave.   
  
Lena should have stayed with her. Rowena should never have let go. If she had kept Lena, she would be safe in a normal life-- a nobody.  
  
Almost as soon as the thought occurs to her, Rowena deflates.   
  
The life of a nobody would have made a Lena far different from the one who exists now-- and Rowena would not trade this Lena for anything.  
  
Setting the bowl aside, Rowena crouches beside the couch, stroking Lena's cheek.  
  
Bleary green eyes pry themselves open, struggling to focus against the sleep still tugging at her. "I'm--"  
  
"Okay," Rowena fills in for her. "I know." Say what you will, but Rowena is as swift a learner as any Luthor. "Do you want to move to the bedroom?"  
  
"Won't make it," Lena murmurs back. She breathes deeply. "Here's okay."  
  
Rowena nods. "Then go ahead and sleep, honey. I'll be here when you wake up."  
  
"'Kay..."  
  
Drifting off once more, Lena's eyes slip shut, only to pry apart a moment later. "Did you like them?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Th'flowers," comes the sleep-blurred response. "Picked 'em out myself. Special."  
  
Rowena gives her a watery smile before bending in to press a kiss to Lena's clammy forehead with trembling lips. 

"I loved them, _acushla_. Every last one."  
  
"Nex' one'll be better..."  
  
"It will," Rowena agrees. "I promise. But sleep now."  
  
Lena's eyes close, and this time don't open again. "'Kay..."  
  
Watching her daughter's breathing even out into peaceful slumber, Rowena lets herself borrow the gentle tranquility.   
  
Everything is all right.   
  
Her daughter is alive.   
  
Lena is home.  
  
Everything will be all right.  
  
\---  
  
Rowena dozes on a chair in the living room, in clear view of the couch and it's slumbering occupant. The soup sits forgotten and cold, and when she blinks awake the final time, it's to the pale light of dawn creeping through the windows.  
  
In the brightening shadows, Rowena sees Lena still asleep on the sofa, unmoved from the position she'd curled in initially, utterly still.  
  
Unnaturally still.  
  
_"Lena?!"_  
  
Rowena bolts from her chair, crashing to her knees beside the sofa. Patting Lena's cheek, her heart lurches when nothing happens.   
  
"Lena! No, no, no, please..." She fumbles at a limp wrist, and chokes in relief when a faint pulse flutters beneath her fingertips. "Lena, honey, can you hear me? I need you to open your eyes... Please, Lena, come on baby..."  
  
Lena doesn't respond. Her eyes are still beneath pale lids, and though her chest rises and falls, it's almost imperceptible through the way Rowena's vision pounds with her own heartbeat.   
  
She reaches blindly for her phone with one hand, the other remaining on Lena's pulse. Please please please....  
  
"Agent Danvers!" she gasps when the line picks up. "Lena fell asleep last night but she isn't waking--"  
  
"Supergirl is on her w--"  
  
Before Alex can finish, the balcony door opens in a blink, and Supergirl appears with a gust of window, her eyes sharp with worry.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"She fell asleep last night. I-- I only dozed off for a minute..."  
  
A warm hand settles on her shoulder, steadying her. "I'm going to fly her back to the DEO," the hero tells her, voice calm with authority. "Whatever's wrong, it isn't your fault."  
  
Rowena steps aside, relinquishing her grip on Lena's wrist so Supergirl could gather her up into her arms. The motion is smooth, and Lena slumps against her chest as though she belongs there.   
  
How many times has Supergirl had to carry Lena to safety?  
  
"I'll be back for you in a moment. Wait here."  
  
She disappears in another whoosh, whipping Rowena's hair against her face. And then she waits.  
  
One.  
  
Two.   
  
Three...  
  
At thirteen, Supergirl reappears. "Agent Danvers has her," she says. "She's in good hands."  
  
Rowena nods, but panic still claws at her chest. "Please-- take me to her."  
  
Supergirl doesn't carry her like she did Lena. They step into a stiff, but secure embrace, with Rowena's arms around the hero's middle and her back warm with the press of inhuman arms, holding her tight.  
  
The trip is momentary, a blur that leaves Rowena reeling-- a disorientation that persists when her vision steadies on the sight of her daughter seizing on a gurney, as Agent Danvers and her team moves urgently around her.  
  
A ragged gasp issues from beside Rowena, an echo of her own shock. Turning, she sees Supergirl with wide, pale eyes, gripped in helpless devastation.  
  
It's a sight so shocking that in that moment, Rowena realizes two things:  
  
The first is that she hasn't seen Kara Danvers since Lena first disappeared.  
  
The second is that Kara Danvers has been there all along.  
  
Rowena reaches out to take the hero's hand, and holds it tight as they wait and pray, together.  
  
\---  
  
"She must have hit her head at some point," Agent Danvers tells them later, to explain the brain bleed that had caused Lena's coma and subsequent seizure. "It put pressure on the cerebrum, and caused some of her function to shut down."  
  
"But she'll be okay?" Rowena asks, unable to keep the waver from her voice. Lena lays in the bed between them, unconscious but still alive. The heart monitor beeps steadily in testament.   
  
Alex nods. "We relieved some of the pressure, and she'll be out for a day or so, but she'll live."

"Will any of the damage be permanent?"  
  
That, Alex can't answer. "We won't know until she wakes up. Her migraines may be worse for the next few months, but beyond that, any prognosis on her cognitive function will depend on what we see when we evaluate her."  
  
Migraines? She says it like they're a regular occurence, a fact of Lena's life but... Rowena never knew that. Lena hadn't told her.  
  
"Lena added you to her next of kin list," Alex says, as though sensing Rowena's spiralling thoughts. "You and Kara are both authorized to know her condition, so you'll be updated with any changes, all right?"  
  
Kara-- Supergirl-- had flown out earlier, in response to an emergency call in the city. So Rowena is alone when she nods. "Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome to bunk here at the DEO for the night. We have some visitor cots you can use, but for right now we need to keep the room clear."  
  
Rowena nods, even as her throat locks with emotion. "Just-- may I have one more minute?"  
  
Alex nods, her eyes soft with understanding. "Sure. I'll come get you when the cot is ready."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
The agent leaves, and Rowena turns her attention fully on Lena. Her hand tightens on slack, chill fingers. She studies her daughter for a long moment, searching for a change she knows won't come for hours yet.  
  
Finally, she lifts Lena's hand to her lips and presses a kiss to her fingers before giving them a reassuring pat.  
  
"You take your time, Lena," she says softly. "I'll be here whenever you're ready."  
  
\---  
  
In the days that follow, the restriction on visitors lifts as Lena's condition remains stable. Rowena and Kara both spend every moment in the infirmary, neither willing to leave before Lena opens her eyes.  
  
But Kara is also Supergirl, and a hero doesn't always have the luxury of time. She passes in and out as she's able, while Rowena becomes a fixture in the visitor's chair, her hand rarely leaving Lena's.   
  
She's alone when Lena finally wakes, and alone witnesses the moment when blurry eyes find her, slowly focus, and then crease in confusion and recognition.  
  
"Mom..."  
  
The world tilts, and refocuses with a brightness Rowena thought had vanished for good.   
  
With a watery smile, she gives Lena's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'm here, _acushla_."  
  
"Wh' happened?"  
  
Rowena takes a inhales to explain, but releases it a moment later. It doesn't matter.  
  
"We can explain everything later," she says instead. "But you're going to be okay."  
  
Lena nods weakly, eyes blinking heavily. Just when Rowena thinks she's asleep again, Lena blinks awake.   
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Yes, honey?"  
  
"M'sorry I missed Mother's Day."  
  
Rowena gives a watery chuckle. "How about we celebrate together when you feel better?"  
  
Eyes already shut, Lena nods. "M'kay."  
  
Everything is going to be okay.


	5. Lena's First Christmas

There's something magical in seeing Lena in her element. When Rowena accepts the embossed invitation to the Luthor Children's Hospital's annual Christmas Charity gala, she does so from the pure joy of being invited. She and Lena are solid now, closer than Rowena ever dreamed they could be, but every new experience still feels like a blessing.  
  
She donates a pair of snowscapes to the silent auction, and sends a cash contribution with her RSVP, despite the gratuitous ticket. She hears the occasional snippet about planning-- particularly when the ordered garlands come in a day late and a dozen strands short.  
  
But when she arrives the venue is nothing short of a winter wonderland, with candles flickering on every table and the scent of cinnamon and ginger hanging in the air, mingling with the sweet scent of pine.  
  
The room is filled with bodies lavishly dressed, slinky evening gowns mingling with crisp tuxedos. Her daughter outshines them all.  
  
Lena stands resplendent in a strapless gown of garnet, it's full skirt embroidered with gold brocade. A poinsettia blossom trimmed in gold glitter sits nestled in the curl of her chignon, with matching glitter dusted lightly in her hair.  
  
Jewels sparkle at her ears, neck and throat, and for the first time in her life, Rowena wishes she were a photographer, with the ability to capture the smile that beams at her when Lena spots her.  
  
She sees Lena pause her conversation, guiding her conversation partner towards Rowena with a gentle touch to the woman's wrist.  
  
"Hi," Lena greets, pressing a kiss to Rowena's cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it. Mom, this Sam, one of my oldest friends, and L-Corp's CFO. Sam, this is my mother, Rowena."  
  
A thrill of pleasure travels down Rowena's spine at yet anither new experience-- this is the first time she's been introduced as Lena's mother. The brunette's eyes are already glowing with interest and delight, and she reaches for Rowena's hand with a wide grin.  
  
"I can tell!" Sam gushes, her gaze bouncing between mother and daughter. "You two look so much alike. It is so nice to meet you."  
  
"And you as well," Rowena returns. "I've heard a lot about you, Sam-- and your daughter Ruby. Lena's adores you both."  
  
"Oh, well that's no secret," Sam says with a grin. "My kid has the great Lena Luthor wrapped around her little finger."  
  
Lena laughs, the sound bright and effusive. "It's not my fault, your kid is adorable and entirely too precocious."  
  
"Which I also blame on her Auntie Lena."  
  
"And Alex!"  
  
Sam shook her head. "Nope! Alex only encouraged it-- you laid the foundation."  
  
Rowena watches their easy exchange, and can see for herself that Sam and Lena are entirely comfortable for each other. Lena likes Sam, and Sam likes Lena-- and if Auntie Lena is to be believed, then they're family. Real family.  
  
"Rowena will agree with me," Sam boasts, shooting Rowena a conspiratorial wink. "Just wait til you see them at Christmas."  
  
Lena covers her eyes with one hand, but can't hide her laughter. "I'm going to regret introducing the two of you, aren't I?"  
  
Sam lifts an eyebrow, and her drink. "Only in the best of ways, boss."  
  
"Oh, god."  
  
\---  
  
After that, Rowena loses Lena to her hostess duties, but Sam lingers almost the whole night-- to the point that Rowena suspects her daughter has tasked her friend with babysitting duty.  
  
She finds she doesn't mind. Sam is sharp and humorous, filling the hours with countless tales of a young, reckless Lena that Rowena has yet to hear.

While Rowena is inconsequential, Sam is a well-known face, and more than a few guests stop by to chat. A few even make a point to greet Rowena.  
  
"Hi," Rowena returns when they offer a polite overture. "I'm--"  
  
"The artist who donated those lovely snowy evening paintings for the silent auction," Sam deftly cuts in. "She has a gallery downtown, have you been?"  
  
And somehow the conversation spools away without Rowena, until the visitor disappears. At first, it sounds like true enthusiasm and the reckless buzz of too much wine, but when it happens again, and then a third time, Rowena knows that it's purposeful.  
  
As the third visitor wanders back into crowd, Rowena pins Sam with stare, until the CFO closes both eyes in a grimace of hesitation.  
  
When she opens them again, her head tilts towards the verandah. "Let's get some air."  
  
The evening is cold for National City, leaving the patio empty for them to find a moment alone.  
  
"I'm sorry. I should have explained before I just--"  
  
"Lena doesn't want anyone to know I'm her mother."  
  
Sam huffs a sigh of relief, grateful that Rowena understands. "Yes."  
  
The elation that had filled Rowena's chest at being introduced as such to Sam evaporates in an instant, and disappointment fills the vacuum.  
  
"I see..." she says softly.  
  
"No!" Sam protests. "No, it's not--"  
  
She sighs, and takes a moment to compose her thoughts.  
  
"It's dangerous, to be a Luthor. There are times she won't spend time with Ruby because she's afraid something will happen while they're together. It's a risk she accepts, to do what she does and to be who she is. But she won't risk the people she cares about."  
  
Sam looks at her, and something in Rowena's features must betray her doubts, because a moment later, Sam continues.  
  
"A few years ago, I uh... I had a sort of health scare. At first I was just losing time, forgetting things. But eventually I turned violent, and put Ruby in danger. Do you know what Lena did?"  
  
Rowena shakes her head. Lena's told her nothing of this-- nor would she. It wouldn't be for Rowena to hear, nor Lena's story to tell.  
  
"She dropped everything to help me. She was the one who figured out what was wrong, she's the one who designed a protocol to treat me. And in the meantime she kept Ruby hidden, kept her safe-- just in case I went looking when I wasn't myself."  
  
"She literally followed me into hell," she says, one shoulder lifting in a helpless shrug. "She saved my life, and Ruby's, and nearly lost everything to do so."  
  
Her gaze turns back towards the hall. Rowena's eyes follow, and catches a glimpse of Lena in her red gown, shimmering and lovely as she smiles with a gentleman in a crisp black suit.  
  
"I tell you all this," Sam continues softly, "because you should know what Lena is willing to do for the people that are hers. If anything, keeping you secret just speaks more to how much she cares for you. She plans to keep you around, and keeping you out of the line of fire is going to be her top priority, you know?"  
  
Rowena nods. "I see..."  
  
And this time she does. This time, when she surveys the banquet hall, she sees the suited security guards standing watch along the walls. This time, her gaze finds Lena, and this time, along with the gown and effervescent smile, Rowena sees the target painted on Lena's back.  
  
"She won't claim you unless she's forced to," Sam continues softly. "But only because she loves you."  
  
\---

Rowena understands, but she doesn't like it.  
  
In the days that follow, anger burns low and hot in her chest, simmering as the holidays grow near. Come Christmas Eve, she's at the aforementioned gathering of her daughter's close friends, but this time, the cheer doesn't come. She stares at her daughter, trying to fathom how anyone could want Lena dead-- how Lena could continue to put herself in the public's view, knowing the risk was so great.  
  
When Lena asks what's wrong, Rowena deflects. Which immediately sends Lena to Sam, whose pointed avoidance of her gaze makes her a prime suspect.  
  
All it takes is a few harsh words for Sam to relent, and Rowena can see the irritation that stiffens Lena's spine as she listens to her friend explain exactly what they'd discussed at the gala.  
  
But Lena takes a deep breath, and approaches Rowena calmly. They escape to Lena's balcony, and hug themselves for warmth against the chill.  
  
"Sam had no right to tell you any of that," Lena says gently.  
  
"I'm glad she did," Rowena clips out.  
  
Lena's shoulders lift. "Then why are you--"  
  
"Because it should have come from you, Lena! Because my daughter is in constant danger and you never told me--"  
  
"It's not exactly a secret." Lena's voice hardens under the accusations, lifting as her defenses rose. "What, was the month-long abduction not clue enough?"  
  
Rowena scowls. "I didn't realize it was regular occurence!"  
  
"Well, I suppose the duration was a little unexpected--"  
  
"Lena!"  
  
"What!"  
  
"Don't act like this is normal!"  
  
"It is normal! My first week in National City, the space shuttle I was supposed to be on exploded because of an explosion under my empty seat. Then there was the helicopter crash, an assassin sent by my brother, jewel thieves with alien tech, a cyborg sent by my mother..."  
  
"Stop..."  
  
"Death by balcony, alien abduction, alien _invasion_ , not to mention the cyanide poisoning--"  
  
"LENA, STOP IT!"  
  
They stand in the silence, shaking with cold and anger. Lena's eyes burn in the shadows, and she breathes deeply to calm herself.  
  
"My life is not safe," she finishes, more softly. "It never has been."  
  
"Six months ago you almost died," Rowena counters. "Yet you continue to put yourself in harm's way!"  
  
"As opposed to what? Hiding? Running away?" Lena scoffs. "I don't do that."  
  
"You mean _Luthors_ don't do that."  
  
"Yes," Lena spits, leaning in close. "And before you spout more sanctimonious bullshit, keep in mind that you lost any right to judge the way I was raised the second you signed those custody papers."  
  
The growl hits Rowena like a punch to the chest.  
  
"You don't get to condemn me for that," Lena finishes.  
  
Rowena's stunned breath fogs the air, and Lena withdraws sharply. She goes back inside without another word, and a few seconds later the front door slams shut.  
  
Unable to move, Rowena stands frozen on the balcony for what feels like hours. When the door slides open again, it's Kara Danvers who steps through.  
  
She doubts there's anything Supergirl can do to mitigate this particular catastrophe.  
  
Kara stands with her quietly for long minutes, until some of the tension eases and Rowena no longer feels quite so stiff in her presence.  
  
"I won't tell you that she didn't mean it," Kara says softly. "Whether she ever intends to share it, anything Lena says comes from a place of truth."  
  
"Words said in anger..."  
  
"Right. But you should know.... your daughter is a hero, Rowena."  
  
Rowena turns to stare at her.  
  
"The only difference between her and Supergirl is that Supergirl does it with a flashy cape and the protection of invulnerability. And a citywide appreciation day," she adds, almost playfully. "But I only give that one another five years, tops."  
  
"Does she really feel she needs to make good so strongly that she's willing to risk her life to do it?"  
  
Kara shakes her head. "It's not about that. I think-- some of her early transparency was about earning back the trust her family squandered, but the instinct to help people-- to risk everything for others... that has nothing to do with the Luthors."  
  
"But she is a Luthor."  
  
In some corner of her heart, she's clung to the idea that some part of Lena remained hers. Perhaps there is, but it's not the part that Lena identitifies with. Lena won't be changing her name; she won't make any announcement to world decrying her heritage.  
  
No one but her close friends will know of Rowena's existence.  
  
Kara reaches out and covers her wrist with one hand.  
  
"She's the _best_ Luthor."  
  
The woman smiled, her eyes kind.  
  
"History will remember the Luthor name, because they will remember Lena, and everything she's accomplished. Lena is a Luthor, but more importantly-- Lena is Lena.  
  
"She is who she is in spite of her family, and in spite of you too."  
  
"But she keeps putting herself in danger--"  
  
"I understand where you're coming from. Trust me. I know better than anyone how fragile she is. But... She's not putting herself in danger. Lena's living her life and danger simply finds her."

Kara straightens from her lean against the rail, fixing Rowena with a solemn gaze. 

"You think you're asking her to stay safe, but all she hears is judgement. Her charity is part of who she is. If you don't support that, you don't support her."

That's not at all what Rowena intended, but she can't summon the words to say so. Kara tilts her head, shrugging in understanding.

"It can be hard for the people who care about her. Even when they're used to it. So far, we've all decided that being in her life is worth the worry. But maybe not everyone can."  
  
\---  
  
Rowena doesn't see Lena again that night. She doesn't hear from Lena for a week, until the lack of her presses so heavily Rowena feels as though she can't breathe.  
  
Finally, she relents and sends a text to Lena's quiet chat window.  
  
_Could we please talk?_  
  
Lena doesn't respond.

Rowena doesn't think she will get a response, right up until the moment Lena steps into her gallery, hair up and eyes stormy. She takes in Lena's tight jaw and stiff shoulders, and senses the cliff she suddenly finds herself on.  
  
"I'll make us some tea."  
  
Lena doesn't protest, and Rowena takes her time filling the kettle and setting it to boil.  
  
"You're right," Rowena starts, letting the steam curl damply through her fingers. "I don't have any right to judge how you choose to live your life. You're not a child, and I didn't raise you."  
  
Lena stares into her cup, refusing to meet her gaze. But she doesn't stop Rowena from continuing.  
  
"But I worry for you, Lena. You almost died this year, and when I see you continue to put yourself at risk, for the sake of publicity--"  
  
A scoff cuts through the air, sharp and derisive. Finally lifting her head, Lena rolls her eyes with a mirthless, twisting smirk.  
  
"That's funny," her daughter says, her voice grinding low in her throat. "Because that's what my detractors say too. That it's a grab for attention."  
  
Shame burns in Rowena's chest, her gaze sliding away to be lumped in with them.  
  
"When Supergirl does it, it's heroism, but if I do it, it's a stunt. God forbid I actually want to help people, and put my family's money and resources towards making a positive impact."  
  
"I'm not saying you shouldn't--"  
  
"No, you're saying I should do it from the shadows. Right? Throw enough money at it and it'll make something happen. But I shouldn't put my face on it?"  
  
"I--" Rowena doesn't know what she's trying to say, anymore.  
  
Lena leans forward, pushing her teacup aside as she fixes Rowena with an intense stare.  
  
"Do you know the kind of legacy my family left behind? Within LuthorCorp itself, thousands of entry-level and factory workers lived below the poverty line. In Cambodia, there are still live mines with the Luthor name stamped on them, just waiting for someone to trip them. There are craters in the Middle East where towns and villages used to be, decimated by LuthorCorp AGMs. They built their names on war and death, and I swore to myself I would do it differently."  
  
"And you are--"  
  
"Damn right I am. The second I graduated I joined Jacky's team to cure cancer, and we were a hairsbreadth away when Lex decided to lose his mind. And as soon as the company fell to me I made the changes I said I would."  
  
A long finger taps against the table, emphasizing each point as she says them.  
  
"LuthorCorp is dead. L-Corp is the future. It is progress, and that means embracing new ideas and new technology and valuing the people who make it function. It means sharing resources with those who need it. If that means being more visible, so be it. If being more visible makes me a target, so _fucking_ be it. I will not run. I will not hide, and I will. Not. Stop."  
  
Rowena blinks, and tears spill down her cheeks. Taking a ragged breath, she clutches her cup between her palms.  
  
"I almost lost you, Lena," she whispers. "I almost lost you _again_. I can't-- I just got you back. I can't lose you again, not now."  
  
Her chest hurts, aching at the thought of having Lena torn from her again. But Lena's gaze slides away, and Rowena swallows her anguish.  
  
"Maybe I don't have a right to say that," she murmurs, "but it's the truth. I love you, even though we're still getting to know each other. Losing you would..."  
  
It would kill her.  
  
But Lena's lips lift in a mirthless smile, bordering on a grimace.  
  
"A few years back, I met a woman. She was an alien, stranded on Earth, far from home. She had the knowledge to get home, but not the means. She was kind, and supportive, and asked me for help.  
  
"I agreed. Not only because it was the right thing to do, but because the kind of technology that would return her to her world would have saved the planet-- it would have halted climate change in its tracks, and ended world hunger."  
  
Rowena gazes at Lena.  
  
"And did she get home?"  
  
Lena's head tilts, and she finally meets Rowena's gaze.  
  
"That woman was Queen Rhea of Daxam, and my help gave her the means to invade National City."

"My point is, while I do take risks, and expose myself certain dangers... staying locked in my office won't make me any safer. The things that happen, happen. What do or don't do often has nothing to do with it."

Her shoulder lifts, as her gaze slides away.  
  
"And even if the worst does happen... I don't mind. So long as I know that I've left the best legacy I can. That I've lived the best life I can.  
  
"I want that to include you, Rowena. But I already have the world telling me that I can't. I don't need to hear it from you too. So if that's all you have..." Lena shrugs again. "I don't want it."  
  
Silence hangs between them, and Rowena struggles to find the words to fill it. After a moment, Lena flattens her hand on the table's surface, and gives it a light tap.  
  
"Think about it."  
  
And then she's gone, leaving Rowena to her solitude with a ding of the bell.  
  
\---  
  
In the days that follow, Rowena tries to find any loophole she can to nudge Lena towards safety. One that won't undermine Lena's choice, or leverage their growing relationship against an ultimatum.  
  
But she can't. Lena has made and will make her own choices, leaving Rowena facing a simple choice.  
  
She can travel the path of Lena's journey in the passenger seat, or she can get out now.  
  
And walking home alone isn't an option she's willing to entertain.  
  
She goes to the dedication of National City's first public vegetable garden knowing Lena would be there to break ground. It's a branch of a sustainability project for one of her personal charities, and if it works, she knows Lena hopes to have as many as ten or more throughout the city.  
  
Rowena finds a spot in the crowd, and finds it odd that everyone besides the press is dressed comfortably, even sloppily. Even Lena is in jeans and a t-shirt bearing the logo of the charity.  
  
But she watches her daughter deliver her speech, and watches the crowd smile with hope and happiness.  
  
"And now that the formalities are out of the way," Lena finishes, "let's get to work."  
  
And to her surprise, Lena hefts the first flat of seedlings in cardboard cups and strikes out into the soft soil just waiting to receive them.  
  
The air fills with enthusiastic voices, and soon the tilled plot is dotted with planters, using trowels and rakes to plant every baby plant they have. And there Lena is, smiling from within a clump of children, who chatter at her animatedly more than they dig.  
  
Rowena isn't dressed for gardening. Her slacks are dry clean only and her flats are suede. But she picks up a trowel and makes her way to the heart of the garden where Lena is, and kneels in the mulch in front of her.  
  
Lena blinks, startled by the sight of her, but doesn't react beyond that. She says nothing, waiting for Rowena to speak first.  
  
"I'm proud of you," Rowena says softly. The children look at her, but without curiosity.  
  
Lena says nothing, but her eyes flash with surprise.  
  
Rowena swallows, and gives her daughter a solemn nod of acceptance.  
  
"I'm with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I only realized after uploading that I realized they're planting vegetables in like, January. So we're just gonna pretend that National City's weather supports year-round planting. Or L-Corp designed a year-round crop for urban gardening. Okay? Okay.


End file.
